Down Boy
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: Yuri doesn't do well in an undefined relationship, so he resolves to ask Judy where, exactly, they stand. However, it's a little harder than he anticipates to concentrate, especially when she's got her own ideas of how a relationship should work… and whose side is Repede on, anyway? Sort of a sequel to "Fire and Rain". T for suggestive themes. I do not own Vesperia or the cover!


"Can we talk?"

Yuri leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, exhausted after a series of long and exhilarating battles. The words are dangerous, but they need to be spoken—especially after today. It was his first mission partnered solely with Judy (and Repede, of course), and because of their new… _partnership_, he needs to get a few things straight.

That, and he really wants his clothes back. As soon as he shut off the water—Judy's room, the most expensive in the tiny inn, was the only one with a fully functional shower—she gave him ten seconds to get a towel around his waist before she kicked him out so she could get in herself. Now, he stands uncomfortably with his hair dripping down his back (albeit drying much more quickly than usual in the midsummer heat), and far too few clothes on for his liking.

"Come in," responds Judy's voice gaily, as though his words had been a request to do so rather than the traditional relationship-ending phrase, and Yuri opens the door with a sigh, which quickly catches in his throat: he blinks, halting abruptly.

Traditionally, when told to come into a bathroom, that means it's safe to do so. But Judy stands with her back to him and her hip to one side, still in the process of fastening the back of her minimal top; fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, she's otherwise fully clothed.

"Is… now a bad time?" asks Yuri, clearing his throat.

"Oh, no," shrugs Judy, turning around to face him with a smile as she adjusts her top (he swallows involuntarily). "Is something the matter?" she adds, frowning. Her hair is already in its traditional bun, her feathery blue tufts sticking together—how did she do that so quickly?

"Um," responds Yuri, wondering if he should even really talk about this sort of thing when she's so… _Judith_. Ordinarily, he wouldn't be caught dead admitting that he needs closure on anything, but this is a matter that he won't let rest, especially now that they're working more closely together.

"…Can I have my clothes back?" asks Yuri eventually. In the interest of being taken seriously, he really wants to wear more than just a towel when bringing up personal issues.

"All yours," responds Judy sweetly, stepping out of the bathroom smilingly. "And then we can discuss whatever it was you _really_ wanted to talk about," she adds as Yuri steps inside—brushing past her; his breath catches—and shuts the door exasperatedly.

Judy has seated herself on the couch by the time he steps out, and he sits down gingerly on the other end of it, resolving to look at Judy as little as possible while he speaks. She has a way of tying his tongue in knots, somehow, like no one has ever really managed to do before. (Not Hisca, not Chastel, not Estelle.)

"What is it?" asks Judy mildly, combing her tufts back into their former fluffy glory. "You seem…" She trails off, looking him up and down analytically, and Yuri sighs heavily, reclining on the couch. Does she have to stare at him like that when he can't even _glance_ at her?

"Right," says Yuri, trying to arrange his thoughts. "What's going on? I mean, between us?" He winces at the clumsiness of his words, but then again, he's never really been good with talking about potentially sensitive issues.

Judy raises her eyebrows. "I don't know, Yuri," she says, _almost _disinterestedly, but there's a note of genuine concern in her voice as she sets her silver, crescent-shaped comb down and smooths out her feathery strands agitatedly. "We skipped a few steps, didn't we?"

"Probably," admits Yuri. They've kissed exactly once, a month or so ago, and they've barely had a chance to talk lately, let alone anything else. Judy's been away on several solo missions—well, with Ba'ul as her ride—so Yuri hasn't actually seen her that much since their journey ended. This is the first time they've spent any significant time together since then, and one of the only times they've been alone since their time in Ghasfarost.

All she left him with was that single, inconclusive kiss.

"So, what do you want to do about it?" Judy, matter-of-fact as ever, rearranges herself on the couch, and Yuri's attention is drawn momentarily to the silken leg she extends towards him, the other bent lazily and swaying so that he _almost _gets a glimpse of whatever is under that skirt.

"I don't know!" exclaims Yuri, tearing his eyes away from her and feeling himself flush. Her present appearance and actions are _not _helping his case, and he catches himself wondering if her skin is really as smooth as it looks—he hasn't had the pleasure of touching it much.

"I just want to know where, exactly, we stand," says Yuri eventually, eyes grazing those dangerous curves on their way up to her face. "That's all," he murmurs, meeting her violet eyes, which widen in surprise.

"Yuri, I don't _know_," she says, and there's something a little like annoyance in her voice—but that might just be her version of anxiety. "I don't decide things like that. _We _do."

"Yeah, but—" Yuri begins, but cuts himself off, shaking his head.

Judy says nothing, but simply glances at him expressionlessly, and Yuri's distracted mind is drawn suddenly to his appearance. Did he wash off all the blood, or is his skin still stained in places? Does he look better with his boots on, or barefoot like he is now? Should he borrow her comb and brush his hair, or is it fine the way it is?

He runs a hand absentmindedly through it, ruffling it the way he sometimes does when he's agitated, but Judy's tiny smile brings him abruptly back to the world, and he wonders how long he was spacing out. Only she can make Yuri so self-conscious—no, not _self-conscious_! What is he, an insecure teenager? He's just sharply aware of how he must look in her eyes, that's all.

"But what?" asks Judy eventually, and there's actually curiosity in her violet gaze. Her voice is slow and quiet, practically a whisper, and Yuri shivers, thinking of how that voice would sound in his ear when they're entwined; he glances towards the bed automatically. It's much bigger and nicer than the one in his room, and immaculately made to boot. He'd like nothing better than to rumple those sheets—with Judy's help, of course.

"But," says Yuri, struggling to find his train of thought amid all the pillows and blankets; Judy's smirk certainly wasn't helping—she had followed his eyes, though they had lingered on the bed only for a split second. "Am I free, or am I yours?" he asks quietly, after a pause.

Judy gazes steadily at the ceiling, evidently lost in thought, and Yuri—after some brief deliberation—gives her as smoldering a stare as he dares, eyes singing her smooth legs and scorching her flat stomach and searing her ample chest before finally burning into her full lips.

She accepts his fiery eyes with a small and secretive smile, and his eyes jerk up to meet hers; a glimmer of the same flame flickers deep within them. "You're mine, _and_ you're free," she decides, tucking her legs under her body and kneeling demurely. "Free to be mine, or not."

"Yours," says Yuri, surprising himself with the immediacy of his answer. He's never belonged to anyone before, and the idea is strangely appealing—not at all restrictive like he had always thought it would be. "I'm… yours." His mouth is dry, and he flicks out a tongue to moisten his lips, wanting nothing more than to reach out and skim the skin Judy proffers.

"If you say so," she purrs, smiling slightly, and his heart races: he breathes in the scent of raspberries, sweet and tangy and succulent—can't he have a little taste? He sits up uncertainly, briefly glancing up at her eyes to find them half-closed with contentment.

Yuri smiles at her and pushes lightly, experimentally on her shoulder; the two move as one, Judy slipping under him just as he arches over her and pins her wrists to the couch. "I'm yours, too," she breathes, voice smooth and sweet as molten chocolate, and as he leans his head down hungrily and his lips graze hers—

Repede scratches at the door.

"Not _now_," protests Yuri, turning his head exasperatedly to address the door, and Repede whines obediently—but he can hear the thud of eighty pounds of dog sitting outside the door. Rolling his eyes, Yuri turns his head back to a clearly amused Judy and closes his eyes as he brings his mouth down—but her hand is in the way.

"Not now," she smiles, stroking his hair in a way that contradicts her words, and Yuri sighs heavily as he realizes that he's going to have to last yet another night alone.

"Why?" groans Yuri, sitting back reluctantly; she remains spread out before him like a feast, the most important dishes concealed. "Because you're a sadist who loves seeing me squirm?" he adds, as she smiles at the desperation of his expression.

"No," laughs Judy. "Believe me, if I wanted to make you squirm, I could," she adds thoughtfully, eyes lingering on his belt, and Yuri bites his lip. "Actually, it's because Repede has a point."

"What do you _mean_, 'Repede has a point'?!" exclaims Yuri, disbelieving.

"We've skipped enough steps in this relationship already, don't you think?" asks Judy, trailing a lazy finger from his throat to his waistband, and Yuri swallows—_talk about mixed messages_.

If he doesn't leave now, he knows he never will, and it doesn't seem to be an option anyway. He reluctantly releases Judy's wrists and stretches nonchalantly as he walked to the door—in part to convince himself that it isn't his loss. He glances over his shoulder, hoping she'll call him back, to find her sitting up and rearranging her hair casually, as though nothing happened.

"Good night," says Judy blithely, tossing him a surprisingly sincere smile. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," responds Yuri, very unwillingly, and shuts the door before leaning against it, frustrated beyond belief. He was _this close_, and then Repede—the very _same_ Repede who had brought them together through a simple stolen shirt—saw fit to ruin the moment.

"_What was that for?!_" he hisses to Repede, glancing down at his feet, but his dog is gone.

"Good boy," says Judy's voice from inside her room, before Yuri can even wonder where he went, and Repede's bark answers her. "You know, I think if we do that a few more times, we can train him out of jumping all over people…"


End file.
